


Snow Globe of Wishes

by itislacey



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: AU, Fluff, M/M, Magic, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-25 21:31:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7547899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itislacey/pseuds/itislacey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone gets one wish in life, but Phil Lester’s doesn’t seem to be coming true. Each day, he shakes his snow globe and wishes upon it, looking at the thing inside that’s supposed to mean the most to him. He seems to think that it’s broken, but one day, he changed up his wish. And his life wasn’t the same after that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a different kind of fic, so I hope you enjoy it! Also, I might do a spin off of this, or like a short sequel. So of you want that, please let me know! Enjoy! :)

Wishes do come true. At least, they’re supposed to.

Phil Lester has used his “magical” snow globe everyday since he turned 18, yet nothing has happened. No wishes came true. Not even the slightest hint at a wish came true. He was beginning to think the damn thing was ineffective, and almost took it back to the creators of the snow globe to have it replaced or fixed.

But he could never bring himself to do it.

Taking back the snow globe meant giving them what was inside of it. And Phil would be damned if he was going to give back the tiny human that lived inside.

Inside the glass dome, there was a boy. His hair was brown like a dirt ridden yard, with eyes in matching color. His skin was mostly pale, but not as pale as Phil’s, and he seemed relatively tall for being stuck in such a small space. He was cute to look at, and Phil always thought of him to be squishy like. Or at the least, soft.

But the human never acknowledged Phil. It was almost like he didn’t know he was there, which seemed absurd, considering the whole thing was made of glass and very easy to see through. Phil knew this, because he made sure the globe stayed smudge free from anything, especially finger prints.

Perhaps the globe didn’t work like he thought.

Phil knew that every snow globe was different. Each person’s held something that was only for them, so the tiny human in Phil’s globe must be pretty important to his life. 

Phil’s mum’s globe had a tree with bare branches in it, but instead of snow, when you shook the globe, cherry blossoms would fly about, making it look like the prettiest Japan landscape he had ever seen. The tree meant something to her, and as it turns out, Phil’s mum met his dad under a bare cherry blossom tree on a holiday in Japan.

But things like that were understandable. What could the tiny human inside Phil’s snow globe mean to him?

He wished he knew. But he didn’t dare waste his one wish in life on something so simple.

With each globe, there came a wish. One wish. You weren’t allowed to use it until you were 18 or older, and Phil was now twenty-four, and hadn’t used it yet. He didn’t have to use it if he didn’t want to, but it seemed silly not to use it in your lifetime. Who wouldn’t want one wish to come true? When you could have anything in life?

Except Phil did wish for something. Multiple times. And it never came true, which is why he thought the snow globe was broken.

Just before bed, he checked up on the globe he loved and hated so much, only to find the human lying down in the middle of the snow, staring up towards the sky. Only, there was no sky. He was looking at the top of the snow globe, which, through the glass, showed the ceiling to Phil’s flat. But he looked at it like he was looking at a beautifully painted sky. And that’s what confused Phil the most. It was like the world on the other side of the glass didn’t exist to the boy. Like he was living in his own perfect world.

“I wish I knew who you were,” Phil whispered to the boy. Though, he didn’t hear him. He never did. Not in the 537 times Phil made that same wish. The boy always stayed where he was, continuing to do what he did best: look lovely.

As usual, Phil waited for something to happen. He waited for the twist of magic to occur, to feel it working. But once again, there was nothing. No magic. No feeling. It was just another ordinary day. One that Phil was getting tired of experiencing. 

“Damn thing,” he muttered angrily. “Why is mine the only one that doesn’t work? It’s not fair.” And truly, it wasn’t. Everyone got one wish. It was only fair that Phil got the same as everyone else. Or if he couldn’t make one, he at least wished someone else could take his. Then he would know where it went and knew that he had an opportunity once. 

But after all these years of not working, Phil didn’t expect his wish to be granted anytime soon. So with that depressing thought, he climbed into bed, staring at the tiny human before falling asleep.

***

When Phil woke up, he wished again.

“I wish I knew who you were.” He waited, listened, and still, nothing. Phil heaved out a sigh, watching as the fake snow drifted back to the bottom of the globe. The tiny human inside was standing at the edge, hands pressed flat against the glass, with his head hanging low. He was looking extra sad today. 

“Don’t be sad,” Phil mumbled. “I’m here. Even though you don’t know it.” He touched his index finger to where the tiny human’s hand rested on the other side of the glass. He wished the boy inside didn’t seem so sad. Only sometimes did he look down. It wasn’t everyday, however. Just today, he looked a little sadder than usual. And it upset Phil that he couldn’t make him smile. 

But maybe I can. 

Phil’s face lit up at the thought. He grinned as he picked up the snow globe, and shook it lightly to let the snow fly around. Once it was all in the air, he said, “I wish for the tiny human to be happy.”

Not even a second ticked by before all the snow inside the globe began to shimmer and shine, and swirl together to make the wish come true. It wrapped around the tiny human, completely making him disappear behind all the light. Phil wished he was able to see him, just to make sure he was alright. But once the light faded into nothing, the snow drifted back to the bottom slowly, revealing what was left of the tiny human. Which was nothing. 

He was gone.

And so was Phil’s happiness. 

***

Perhaps I should have wished for myself to be happy, Phil thought later that night as he sulked in his dimly lit flat. No, I did a good thing. I made him happy. I need to quit being selfish. 

But no matter how many times Phil told himself he did the right thing, he was still sort of sad that his one wish was gone. And that he used it on someone else who wouldn’t even know about it.

What didn’t make sense, however, was the fact that there was nothing left inside his snow globe. The tiny human was gone, that much was certain, but it wasn’t supposed to be. No one else’s objects disappeared after they made a wish. It just didn’t work like that.

Then again, when did anything related to my snow globe ever work? Phil thought. Maybe I should ask around. See if that’s normal. Maybe then I could get a second wish, a second chance at--

His thoughts were cut off by a loud thump at his front door. It wasn’t a knock, but more like an object hitting it. Phil brushed it off, thinking that it was just the neighbor across the hall who hit it by accident, but then the thump sounded again. 

With a grumble, he tossed the pillow off his lap and headed to the front door, despite wearing Star Wars pajama bottoms and a long-sleeved gray t-shirt. His glasses were askew on his face, so he quickly adjusted them before swinging open the front door to see . . . nothing. 

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. There was a big, white dog at the end of the hall, just sitting. It didn’t move, it didn’t make a sound. It simply stared at Phil from where it remained, waiting. 

“Who’s dog are you?” he asked quietly to himself. He didn’t remember anyone in this building having a dog. Let alone this huge white one. Dogs weren’t allowed in the building, so where did this one come from? 

Phil took a step out of his flat, and that’s when the dog stood up. It just watched him carefully, waiting for Phil to make the next move.

So he did.

He took one more step out of the doorway, and the dog turned around completely, turning his head so he could still see Phil.

“Do you want me to follow?” Phil asked it, very well knowing it wasn’t going to reply. 

The dog only huffed, walking forward down the stairs.

Phil grabbed his shoes from right inside the doorway and struggled to put them on as he closed the front door and raced down the hall, after the dog. He thought he was going to lose it, but when he reached the lobby, the dog was at the front door, waiting.

“What is going on?” Phil muttered. He continued after the dog, and that’s when things got stranger. 

The dog stepped through the front door. Like a ghost. 

Phil’s heart leaped into his throat, and he swallowed it back down. He pushed open the front door to his building, and stepped outside into the cold winter night. 

Snow fell rather heavy, but in a peaceful sort of way. It wasn’t blizzard condition. It was just really large flakes that came down in large bunches. There was only one working streetlight, which didn’t give off much light for Phil to look for the dog. He was going to have to rely on the full moon to guide his way.

Phil skimmed the area in front of him, seeing nothing but the open field that was in the front of his flat building. He looked down the street each way, coming up short. The dog was gone.

Unless I imagined it? 

No, that didn’t seem likely. Why would Phil imagine some random white dog? Then again, what normal dog would be able to walk through walls and disappear so quickly?

None. 

Phil turned around to go back inside and go to bed, when he heard a howl. He whipped his head around, seeing the white dog in the middle of the field, looking particularly ghostly. It’s pointy ears were erect, and its fur blew to the left in the wind. It’s icy blue eyes stared Phil down, clearly waiting to be challenged. 

Phil stepped forward, rushing towards the ghost dog, nearly falling over in the deep snow. He shivered without his jacket on, and he immediately wished he would have taken the extra five seconds to grab one and put it on. His long sleeved shirt wasn’t doing much for him.

The dog kept running, and Phil kept sprinting after it, too curious to see where it was leading him. 

His legs were getting sore from running through the deep snow, but he kept pushing himself. Everything was telling him that he needed to keep going. He needed to see where this dog was taking him. 

Just when he was about to collapse from exhaustion, the dog came to an abrupt halt, Phil stopping with it. He huffed heavily, his throat burning from the col air he was taking in. 

The dog snorted, standing in a pointing position towards the center of the field. 

Phil dragged his eyes to where the dog’s snout was pointing, when his breath caught in his throat. 

There, in the middle of the field, sat a boy. He was directly under the moonlight, his hair shimmering with the wetness of the snowflakes. He sat barefoot in the snow, with his head down and his hair falling over his face. 

If Phil knew any better, he would say that this boy looked exactly like the tiny human that once resided in his snow globe.

The dog trotted forward, standing in front of the now big human, sitting down in front of him. 

The boy looked up slightly, resting his hand on the top of the dogs head. He whispered something Phil couldn’t quite hear, and that’s when the dog turned into nothing but snow, falling out of existence.

So it wasn’t a real dog?! But I clearly didn’t imagine it. It was right there. Right in front of--

“Tiny human,” Phil blurted out.

The boy looked up, a smile slowly spreading across his face. “Tiny human,” he echoed. His voice sounded better than what Phil ever imagined. It wasn’t deep, but it wasn’t too high. It sounded lovely, and Phil wanted to hear him say more.

“You’re real?” Phil whispered into the night.

“You’re real,” the boy said back.

Phil scowled, despite himself. “Do you only repeat what I say, or?” He was glad the boy was real. And that he was talking. But Phil wanted him to say his own words. Not just repeated everything he was saying.

The boy laughed, and smile lines appeared on the side of his mouth, followed by two craters on both cheeks. “No, I’m only saying what I think. Which happens to be your thoughts as well.”

Phil’s jaw slackened. “You . . . you’re thinking the same thing? How?” The only way that would be possible is if . . .

“You were a tiny human in my snow globe,” the boy replied. “I haven’t seen you for a long time though. A few years, at least. I was sad when you left.”

“When I left? You left my globe!” Phil whined.

“Then you must have made a wish about me,” the boy said. “Just as I made a wish about you.” The boy’s smile faltered, but was replaced by another one. A more sympathetic one. 

“You made a wish about me?” Phil asked, surprised. He shivered, forgetting where he was currently standing.

The boy nodded once. “I did. Would you like to know what it was?”

“You’re not supposed to tell other people what you wished for. It’s considered bad luck, remember?” Phil said.

When the boy laughed, it sounded like . . . like pure joy. Like the kind you hear on Christmas morning when kids open their presents for the first time. It sounded like magic. Which is what this whole night consisted of. 

“I remember,” the boy said. “But I also don’t care. My life has been nothing but a series of unfortunate events. Until tonight, that is. Because you must have finally made the right wish.”

Phil was confused. Well, he had been ever since that dog showed up in the hallway. But right now, he was truly lost. “I don’t understand.”

The boy’s brown eyes that Phil loved so much, collided with his gaze. “What did you wish for?”

“I’m not telling you,” Phil said rather defensively.

“It’s okay. I can already guess what you wished for anyway. It’s why I’m sitting here in the snow, freezing my ass off.”

Phil scowled. “It’s not like I’m making you sit there. You can stand up if you like.”

The boy laughed. “I always liked seeing you make that face. It’s so cute and non-threatening.”

Phil’s scowl only deepened, causing Dan to laugh even more. “Just . . . ugh! Just explain to me what’s happening. Why are you real all of the sudden? Where did you go?” 

His smile vanished, suddenly all serious. “I’ve always existed. For twenty years, actually. The person inside your globe was me, but it also wasn’t. It was just an image. A hologram, if you will. I can’t explain why it vanished, so you’re left just as clueless as I am. But I’m sure you can guess why I was in there?”

“Because you mean the most to me, I guess,” Phil said. “Everyone’s snow globe is like that. You should know that.”

“I do. But what are the chances that ours had each other in them? Quite little, if you ask me. But that’s not the point here. The point is your wish. From my guesses, you are not eighteen. You’re older. So why haven’t you used your wish until now?” he asked Phil.

Phil swallowed thickly. He was a little embarrassed to admit why. “I tried using my wish. Hundreds of times. Literally. It just never came true. Not until I changed it to fit you.”

The boy laughed. Hard. “No, no. The wish doesn’t fit me. It fits you. You wished for . . . what? Me to be happy?”

Phil’s heart quit beating. “How do you know that?”

“Because I’ve never been happy,” he admits. “Not until tonight, anyway. So you must have wished it. Because I feel . . . great. I feel so happy, I didn’t even know this was a feeling. I love it so much.”

“So the wish did work for you,” Phil pointed out. 

The boy shook his head. “Yes and no. Yes, I’m happy, because that’s what you wished. But it was still your wish. I mean the most to you, apparently. Since I’m happy, your happy. Well, you’re supposed to be. Your previous wish wasn’t working, because you already had it. You can only wish for stuff you don’t have.”

Phil was truly and utterly lost. He hated feeling this way. He felt like the world was playing tricks on him, and his head hurt from thinking too hard. “I don’t get it,” he said angrily. 

“It’s okay,” the boy assured. “Don’t get worked up. Let me explain. You were wishing for something you already had, that’s why it wasn’t working. I don’t know what that wish was, and you don’t have to tell me, but that’s the answer to that.”

Phil was going to tell him anyway, because he wanted a better answer. “I wished I knew who you were. Everyday.” 

“That’s just it. You did know who I was. Maybe not a name or location, but you knew me. Just by looking at me in that globe, you knew I existed. Magic and wishes are tricky. Technically, you knew who I was. I know it’s stupid. But so is life.”

What the actual . . . “So how does my wish not work for you? I wished for you to be happy, and you are. I used my wish on you.”

“But it still comes back to you,” the boy said. “I’m happy, so you’re happy. The wish worked two ways. Get it?”

Phil made a growl noise before plopping down in the snow. It was cold and wet, much like he predicted, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. His head hurt and he was upset. “I hate magic.”

“Good thing you don’t have to deal with it anymore,” the boy said, his face now looming over Phil’s. He was even better life-size. With his big brown eyes a cute, little nose. Even his hair was better looking and curly at the ends.

“Now what?” Phil asked, blowing out a breath.

“We start,” the boy said simply.

“Start what?” Phil asked.

“The beginning of our forever.”

Phil liked the sound of that. He had spent a lifetime looking at this boy, never able to talk to him or understand him. But now, he was real. He was here. And he was Phil’s.

“I’m Dan,” the boy said.

“I’m Phil.”


	2. Storybook of Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second, and last, part of Snow Globe of Wishes! Hope you enjoy! This chapter contains some SMUT. But nothing to explicit.

It felt strange at first. Knowing that Phil had already used his wish.

Now, he didn’t regret it by any means. He was so happy with the way his life was going right now. But knowing that his wish was gone, and that he had nothing to fall back on in case things went wrong . . . well, it unsettled him a bit.

It’s been about two months since his wish came true and he met Dan, but those two months have been wonderful and hard. Adjusting to a new life so sudden and having that void in his head about the wish . . . No. He wouldn’t think about that now. He had better things to do. Like write down his latest dream.

Dan called it a dream journal, but Phil called it a storybook. Mostly because the things he wrote down in it were stories, and not things he dreamt about. Though a few times he had written down some dreams, but most of the contents consisted of stories. Or dreams he had in life.

Today I dream of a better tomorrow. Not that today is bad, but life can always get better. Especially since I have Dan with me now, Phil wrote.

He wasn’t going to lie. Having Dan with him in real life and not just in the snow globe, was a million times better than he ever thought it would be. But he would somewhat always miss the tiny human that never knew him. So cute and fragile. Almost like someone Phil needed to watch and take care of. Even so, Dan is still quite a few years younger than him. Phil would always look out for Dan, even if he was an adult.

“What are you doing?” Dan asked, suddenly in the doorway to the office.

Phil slammed the book shut, not really knowing why. Just off impulse, maybe? “Nothing.”

“Writing in your dream journal?”

“A dream journal is a small book in which you record dreams you have at night. That is not what I do on these pages,” Phil stated with a bit of sass in his tone.

Dan grinned, enjoying the fact he was getting under Phil’s skin. Honestly, when was he going to realize that’s why he called it a dream journal? He liked to watch him squirm. “Why don’t I ever get to read what’s inside?”

“Because I don’t want you to.”

“Why not? It’s not like I’m going to make fun of you. You know I like it when you ramble on about things you wish would happen. Especially those times you tell me of the days you spent wishing you knew me.” Dan strode over to the desk, sitting on top of the wooden surface.

Phil smiled in agreement. “Okay, but that’s different than this. These are my personal dreams. They might not come true if I tell you what they are.”

“They’re dreams. Not wishes, Phil. The same superstitions don’t apply.”

“Just leave it alone,” Phil said defensively. “I don’t want you reading them, okay?”

The smile on Dan’s face disappeared, his face covered with disappointment. “Alright. Sorry I bothered you about it. How about we watch an anime or something?”

Phil nodded. “Okay. Sure.” He watched as Dan jumped off the desk, heading out of the office. Phil made sure his storybook was closed and locked, before stowing it in the messy closet next to the door. He always put in there. In a place Dan would never touch.

In the lounge, Dan was already sitting on the sofa, and Phil rushed over and nearly jumped on top of him.

“Whoa! What are you doing!?” Dan exclaimed.

Phil wrapped his arms around Dan’s neck, sitting on top of his lap. “Giving you a sorry kiss,” he said, planting one right on his lips.

Dan’s face heated up as he hungered for more, dipping his tongue into Phil’s mouth, searching. Wanting. But Phil cut it off before he could find what he was looking for.

“I’m sorry I get upset about my book,” Phil said. “I just . . . I’m not comfortable with you reading them. Not right now, anyway.” Eventually, sure. But right now, Phil wasn’t ready for Dan to see what he dreamed of.

The words barely registered in Dan’s mind, for he couldn’t stop staring at Phil’s soft lips. They were so plump, so nice. Dan wanted more. And he wanted it now. “Don’t worry about it,” he said absently. He leaned towards Phil, ready to explore the wonder that was Phil’s mouth, when Phil rolled off of him, landing on the space next to him.

Phil smiled wolfishly up at Dan, knowing what he had done. “So what are we watching?” Phil asked, changing the subject.

Dan frowned. Suddenly, he wasn’t in the mood to watch anime. He didn’t even feel like watching it, as he was currently feeling something else. “I . . .” His voice came out a little strained. “I don’t want to watch anime anymore.”

“Then what do you want to do?” Phil asked, raising one brow.

Dan clenched his fists together, trying his best to stay somewhat neutral, but Phil had triggered him only moments ago. And now he was feeling wild. Hungry. For Phil.

Without another thought or word, Dan dove onto Phil’s body, pinning him to the couch.

“Whoa, Dan,” Phil said, the smile still resting on his lips. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Fuck. You know what has gotten into me,” Dan said, his eyes widening as he looked Phil up and down, slowly.

Phil squinted, playing dumb. “Not really. I thought we were going to watch anime. What changed within the last three minutes?”

“Stop . . . talking,” Dan said, his voice coming out in huffs. Man, he was sure out of breath and he hadn’t even done anything. Yet.

“I really hate watching you keep yourself together. It’s not a good look on you. Really, you should just let it out,” Phil said, his smile growing.

“Oh, fuck,” Dan said, letting himself relax. He could finally enjoy the sensation that Phil had caused. His pants suddenly seems too tight in the front, and he was aching to get them off and let it loose.

“Da--oh,” Phil breathed out, feeling a sudden weight touch his lower abdomen.

“I need you,” Dan choked out. “Right now.”

“Right now?” Phil said, trying his best to keep up a teasing tone. He liked when Dan got desperate. He even liked when Dan tried to take charge.

“Yes,” Dan practically hissed.

“Hmm, I don’t know. I’m not a fan of--” Phil didn’t get to finish his sentence, as Dan launched backwards, pulling Phil up off the couch and on top of him.

“Fuck me,” Dan said. “Please,” he begged.

“You don’t have to ask me to do that,” Phil said, his voice now husky. He felt the sudden shift in mood as he landed on top of Dan, and now his shorts seemed too tight around his groin.

Dan moaned slightly when he felt the pressure hit his inner thigh. “Fuck me. Please. Right now. Rip off my clothes, touch me all over. Love me. For fuck’s sake, Phil, quit making me beg. I want your love. I want it now.”

“So do I.” Phil crashed his lips onto Dan’s, his tongue colliding with his. Phil fiddled with Dan’s zipper, pulling his black skinny jeans down the long length of his legs, taking off his socks along with them. He tossed them aside, now pulling Dan’s shirt off, over his head. The only thing that remained were Dan’s thick boxers.

“Take them off,” Dan growled, biting Phil’s lip.

Phil reached down slowly, grabbing the top of the boxers and teasing them down cautiously. They’ve done this before, many times at that, but each time was better than the last, and Phil would be damned if he didn’t say that he was impressed by Dan’s body. Every. Time. He was so beautiful and soft. So squishy and his. His body should be worshipped. By Phil and Phil only.

The boxers were off in seconds, however, now lying on the floor somewhere with Dan’s jeans. And unfortunately, Phil was still clothed.

“Where is it?” Dan gritted out, reaching desperately towards Phil’s lower half.

Phil chuckled against Dan’s lips, his smile growing. “Find it and you can have it.”

“F-f-f-f-u,” Dan stuttered but never finished. He tore Phil’s shorts off without a care, taking his boxers right along with them. Dan didn’t even bother with Phil’s shirt and neither did he, so there were now one and half naked men on the couch right now, going at it like it was the last time they ever would.

“I love you so much,” Phil whispered into Dan’s ear, nipping at the lobe.

Dan shuddered, despite the heat that was bubbling inside him and rolling off of him. He could feel his forehead laced with sweat, and he was sure his hair had already started to curl at the tips. “I love . . . you,” he said, moaning rather loudly as Phil grabbed him and began the process of finishing what he started.

“I’m so glad you’re mine,” Phil said, concentrating on Dan’s face as he tried to make words.

“I’m going to . . .”

“Let it happen,” Phil said, still remaining close to him, waiting for the end.

It didn’t take long after Dan announced it, that Phil felt a warm liquid cover his lower abdomen and the hem of his shirt. Dan relaxed underneath him, his back no longer arched. He was panting heavily, his face shining with sweat.

Satisfied, Phil finished himself off, flopping down on the tiny space between the back of the couch and Dan. He draped one arm across Dan’s stomach, his fingers rubbing circles onto his side.   
“Phil,” Dan said, his breath coming back to him. “I love you. So. Fucking. Much. I’m glad you made that wish.”

“Me too,” Phil chuckled. Because of the high state he was currently in, Phil said, “Do you want to know something?”

“What?” Dan whispered, turning his head so his nose now touched Phil’s.

“This was something I wrote in my book,” he said, kissing Dan’s lips softly.

“That we did it on the couch?”

At that, Phil laughed. “Well, no, not specifically. I wrote that I dreamt of just you and me, exploring one another and never wanting to let go after that. That we would just lie here when we are done, telling each other how much we love one another and being so grateful that our lives intertwined because of one wish.”

Dan smiled, and he kissed Phil again, passionately and desperately. “If I got another wish, I wouldn’t use it,” he said. “Because there’s nothing else this world can possibly give me. It gave me the greatest thing I could have ever wanted, and that was you.”

“I dream of that,” Phil said. “I dream of our future and just us. It’s what I write about, actually. The dreams I want, or the ones that have already happened. Because dreams are just as magical as wishes. Only sometimes, they take longer to come true.”

Dan pulled Phil close, holding him tight and rubbing his thumb on the back of Phil’s head.

Phil was on the verge of sleep when he said, “You know, my book is about you.”

Dan angled his head downwards. “What?”

“My ‘dream journal.’ It’s all about you, because you’re all I ever dream about.” His eyes fluttered shut and his breaths were evening out.

“You’re all I ever dream about too,” Dan whispered. “I just don’t write them down, because I’m too busy living them.”

Dan listened to Phil’s soft snoring and the chirps of the crickets outside as he fell asleep that night, almost certain that he was dreaming up a fairytale most people would be jealous of.


End file.
